


118 - Horror Movies (& One V Scared Van)

by storiesaboutvan



Category: Catfish and the Bottlemen (Band)
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 16:12:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17429210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesaboutvan/pseuds/storiesaboutvan
Summary: Filling the prompt “Netflix and chill to a horror movie? Van isn’t scared at all and keeps trying to seduce the main character.” and “Y/N (the reader) and Van watch a scary film and Van ends up being proper scared and is legit following you everywhere but he is really cute about it? Like he does cute things/actions so you don’t get annoyed with him??”





	118 - Horror Movies (& One V Scared Van)

All the best things in life are contradictory in nature. Van McCann is the perfect illustration of that point. Take his lyrics, for example. Concise and eloquent, they tell detailed stories with precise language and an impressive vocabulary. Contrast this to Van's everyday pattern of speech. The drawn out stories that go nowhere, and the constant use of slang that nobody really understands without explanation. Another example is his grace on stage. He balances on speakers and the thinnest of edges without falling. Off stage, he is a constant canvas of bruises and scratches from tripping over and walking into things. Lastly, there is the mix of his personality traits. Easily the most motivated and determined person you've met, Van also spent four days eating only two-minute noodles and not showering out of sheer laziness. He is a walking contradiction, and you love him for it.

Another beloved contradiction of yours are horror films. You're easily terrified, and dread the racing heart and the moments where you know something is going to make you jump, but there are hardly any other genres represented in your film collection. "Why do you do this to yourself?!" Van would say, laughing at your genuine fear. You would shrug, and cuddle down into the blankets more, like maybe the dead girl with long dark hair couldn't twist her fucked up body under there and get you.

...

You ate all of the sweet and sour (another good contradictory experience) stir fry, leaving none for Van. He didn't mind; he was happy with the honey chicken. After the food was consumed, he put the DVD in. You laughed that they still existed and that Van managed to find the one place that still rented them out. "They probably don't ever expect it back, Van," you said. He threw you a look of fake hurt, then grinned. Back next to you, he let you cuddle down into him. His fingers tangled in yours, and he started the routine of paying more attention to you than the film. "Can you like, proper watch this one? It's meant to be good and I will need to debrief after," you asked. He glanced up at the screen, then back at you, nodding.

Ten minutes in and Van was kissing your neck. You pushed him away. "You're gonna miss the plot points, Van," you said, not taking your eyes off the screen.

"Is it about vampires?" he asked. You shook your head no. "Don't care then." Ever since you told him that his pointy teeth, pale skin, and black velvet clothes made him seem like the beautiful walking undead, he'd been all about the vampires. You laughed, and let him back close to you.

Halfway through the film, you'd repositioned yourselves to be lying down. Van's back was to the back of the couch, and you were spooned into him. His hand snuck its way under your shirt and his fingers ran up and down your spine. He'd alternate between kissing the back of your neck and watching parts of the film. There was no way he was following the narrative though. You felt his thumb hook under the waistband of your underwear at the same moment the temperate in the room in the film dropped. You swatted his hand away. His arms wrapped around you entirely, pulling you harder into him.

You both watched as the protagonist pulled an old book out of an older box. It revealed the horrific secrets so crucial to the film. The plot twist. Then, from the shadows behind the girl, a shape emerged. You made a deep whine of discontent and wriggled your hips. Van's arms tightened, and you realised he wasn't watching anymore. His head was burrowed into you. Was he really falling asleep at this point? Really? The shadow-born shape moved slowly closer and closer to the girl. Then, without warning, it moved fast and loud and you screamed out. Van jumped against you, reacting to your sound. Your scream broke, then you laughed.

"Fuck, Y/N. Gave me a fuckin' heart attack," Van said.

"Well if you were watching you would have screamed with me too," you replied. He shrugged and looked back at the screen.

In the last twenty minutes of the film, Van started to pull at your shirt, and you let him lift it over your head quickly. He drew patterns and shapes and words across your skin, having disappeared behind you entirely. He jumped when you screamed a second time, his hand going flat against your back. You whispered a sorry to him, and he resumed the drawing again.

When the credits rolled, Van sat up. Quickly climbing over you, he took the DVD out of the machine and turned the lights on. You closed your eyes in reaction; too bright. You leant over the couch and picked up your shirt, pulling it back on. 

"Make me tea?" you asked Van, who was still standing awkwardly at the light switch.

"Okay. Come on.” You shook your head and pulled the blanket up around you. "You make it better. I'll help," he added. 

"What? You always make the tea?"

He swayed from one foot to the other and glanced out nervously into the darkness of the adjoining hallway. You didn't see the nervousness though. 

"Please? Just want to be near you," he asked again. You laughed out loud.

"Oh my god, fine," you said, getting up and walking out the room. You didn't turn the hallway light on as you walked past the switch, and Van quickly grabbed your hand and walked close behind. In the kitchen you made tea as Van warmed up crumpets and drizzled them with butter and honey. You ate standing side by side against the kitchen bench. "You don't like horror movies much, do you?"

"Not fussed,"

"I think because they don't scare you they're probably not as much fun," you theorised. Van looked at you, then slowly nodded.

"Yeah, maybe."

The fridge made a snapping sound. Van jumped out of his skin, and you laughed, still not connecting the dots.

You walked through the dark hallway to the bedroom, Van close behind again. You flicked the light on and went to brush your teeth. You watched from the ensuite as Van turned the bedside lamps on and the main light off. You spat into the sink, and asked, "Did you turn the lounge light off?" Van paused and looked at you, saying nothing at first.

"Yes?" he slowly said. 

"Yes? With a question mark? Is it off?"

"No,"

"Can you turn it off?" He made a face that looked like you'd just asked him to shoot Larry. "Why are you being weird?" 

"I'm not,"

"Van. Go turn the light off."

He walked to you and started to brush his teeth. Between motions, he said, "Can't. Brushing teeth. You do it."

You narrowed your eyes at him, suspicious. "Would you do it if I went with you?" He nodded, and you realised what was happening.

He followed you through the dark hallway, gripping your hand. You looked back at him when the lounge room light up ahead was enough to see by. Van's eyes were squeezed shut. He bumped into you when you stopped suddenly at the door. You flicked your head in a directional command, and Van walked to the switch and was a split second away from turning the light off.

"Oh my god, Van, don't move," you said in a panicked voice. He went completely still.

"That's not funny,"

"I'm not joking. Just. Don't look behind you," you said in a low voice, pretending to be watching something behind him.

"Fuck you," he said and went to move.

"No!" you yelled. He jumped and shook on the spot. Then, you grinned and walked to him. "Oh my god, Van! You're dead scared! The movie fucked you up!"

"I'm fine," he said defensively, pushing you away when you tried to hug him. He looked around the room nervously.

"No, you're not. Look at you. What the fuck? Do they all do this? Is this why you try to not watch them? Van!"

"No. Stop it. You turn the light out, yeah? I'm going to bed," he walked past and you chuckled.

"Gonna walk through the dark hallway alone? This house is so old, Van. Who knows what's happened in there, you know?"

He stopped walking and looked back at you. "Why ya being so mean?" He frowned.

"I'm sorry. Come here," you said and walked to hug him. After letting go, you turned around and pulled both his arms around you. "Close your eyes," you instructed. He rested his head on your shoulder, his chest hard against your back. You turned the lounge light off and lead him through the darkness back to your bedroom. Once inside, you closed the door and told him it was safe.

He got into bed and laid waiting for you. You pulled off your track pants and got under the covers with him.

"I'm sorry," you said sincerely. You ran a finger down his nose. "I won't make you watch anymore,"

"I'm not scared,"

"Okay. But I still won't, alright?"

Van nodded and you tangled your limbs together. You left the bedside light on and hoped he wouldn't have nightmares.

Van McCann, the walking contradiction, had another seemingly incompatible characteristic to add to the list. Fearless in life, reckless in movement, unafraid of the unknown, but completely and utterly terrified of horror films. You were so goddamn in love with him.


End file.
